


Batson Protocol 3

by DustyTales



Series: Ghost on the Dance Floor [4]
Category: Batman - All Media Types, Nightwing (Comics), Titans (TV 2018), Young Justice - All Media Types
Genre: Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Trans Dick Grayson, Trans Male Character, Transphobia
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-03
Updated: 2019-06-03
Packaged: 2020-04-07 09:00:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,882
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19081798
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DustyTales/pseuds/DustyTales
Summary: Batman's Batson protocols make for a good excuse for Dick and Wally to open up to each other without pressure, but level ten secrets can sometimes end up heavier than their lighthearted game should warrant.





	Batson Protocol 3

**Author's Note:**

> Hey yall, quick warning here: this includes specific details about Gender Reassignment Surgery. No sexy times or even description of anyone's genitals, just clinical discussion of gender dysphoria coming from genitals.  
> And because I know this can he a trigger for some trans people, Dick's genitals are never specifially referred to by female terms. I'm trans, I know how to write this stuff respectfully, so don't stress.  
> I said the word genitals too much already. Yay.

It had been a game for them since they were kids. Maybe calling Batman's system a "game" was just how the two coped with the mild trauma of being a child hero, maybe it was just a nice excuse to open up to a close friend. It didn't really matter at this point, since they were adults now and still used it as a form of relaxation and intimacy.

After meeting Martian Manhunter and Shazam, Batman became extremely paranoid about magic. Thus, the various "Batson" protocols were devised, much to the humor of Billy. But Batman did nothing in half measures, and all of the Young Justice team needed Protocol 3 secrets, in named levels, and a friend who knew their codes.

Wally and Dick turning this very scary possibility into a game made sense for children, even if Bruce was always telling them to take it more seriously. Back then they'd lay on the floor eating snacks, not a care in a world, going back and forth: "Tell me a level 7." "Tell me a level 9."

Dick and Wally had only had to enact Batson Protocol 3 for  _ real _ one time, and had Wally not passed with flying colors the comfort the two found in the protocol would have likely been lost.

But Wally never let Dick down, not when he needed him. Even when Wally had disappeared, he had never  _ really _ let Dick down.

It was late, going on 3 am. If Dick didn't have tomorrow off work, he'd have gone to bed long before now, but as it stood, he had no reason to extract himself from his comfortable position in his favorite armchair. Wally was laid back in the recliner with Dick half curled in the remaining space and half on top of Wally.

If Dick was sober he'd be worried about the chair holding the weight of two fully grown men, but he was not. The two men had made their way through most of a six pack at this point, though Wally was only barely buzzed given his metabolism.

Dick wasn't drunk, per say, but he was a little passed tipsy. He felt warm, and loose, and cuddly, and this was honestly his favorite state of drunkenness. When he got totally hammered Dick tended to get rather weepy, so he was nursing his last bottle of crappy beer pretty slowly at this point. He was a little too far gone to remember why he needed to slow down, but he remembered to, so that's all that mattered for now.

They were playing the game again. God, they hadn't done it in years, and something about it just felt  _ right. _

"Here's a… I guess a level eight? Ish?" Wally started, tilting his head thoughtfully, "Maybe a nine. But uuuhhhh… Me and Arty actually  _ did  _ get busy before everything went to hell."

Dick sputtered around his beer, dribbling down his front as he laughing at Wally's phrasing. "Oh my God! Please tell me you talked about it like that with her!"

Wally threw his head back and cackled. "I only got away with saying it once! She gave me a lump on the back of my head, she smacked me so hard!"

The two men laughed together, remembering working with Artemis fondly. As their giggles died down to wheezing, Dick spoke again.

"Aw, man… So what's boning an Arrow like?"

Wally snorted, regaining control of himself through his laughter. "God, Arty was… intense. We were together for a  _ while _ before anything happened, and she still told people we'd never done it till the day we broke up."

Dick frowned, sympathetic to their old friend. Maybe it was living up to her namesake that made her feel like she had to pretend to be a virgin.

"But we did have sex. Just once," Wally continued, "She's… a lot of woman, blue jay. A hell of a ride. She was nervous, actually. It was sweet."

Dick nodded slowly, reclining back against his boyfriend to burrow his nose in his neck. "Artemis would want us to make that at least a nine."

Wally hummed agreeably, running his fingers through Dick's hair. 

It was Dick's turn now. Being drunk made it easier to get nines and tens off his chest, but Wally being the only observer made it even easier.

"This one's for sure a ten." Dick grumbled into his partner's skin.

Wally's only response was to let the hand in Dick's hair migrate down to his back.

"I think about getting bottom surgery sometimes. I almost had it done before I met the Titans."

Dick's words were met with silence for an agonizing moment.

"When we were kids, you said you'd never." Wally observed, picking his words carefully.

The smaller man nodded against Wally's neck. "Going under the knife scared me back then. But a lot changed in these past few months."

Wally tensed, and suddenly words tumbled from his mouth like a burst dam. 

"Dick, I hope you don't think you need to have it for us to be intimate, Iknowwehaven'tdiscussedhavingsexbutwecanworkonthiswe-"

"Wally!" The younger man interrupted, sitting up to grab Wally's face.

The speedster blinked owlishly at him, but quietened.

"It's got nothing to do with you." Dick said firmly, "Sex is really only a small part of it." He let go of his partners face and settled back against his side than.

"Okay." The red head answered, calming, "But if it's not… is it okay if I ask…?"

"Explaining this to you might seem a little tmi, Walls, just to like, brace you for it-" 

"Shit, no, I'm sorry, you don't-"

"Wally," Dick interrupted again, "that was a warning, not some reverse psychology guilt thing. Besides…" he took in a shaky breath, "if we are ever going to be…  _ really  _ intimate… we need to at least get comfortable discussing this stuff."

Wally nodded slowly, shifting them so Dick was reclined against his chest. He rested his chin on his partner's shoulder and folded his hands on Dick's stomach before he muttered "Whenever you're ready."

Dick really didn't like talking about being trans, and especially not about what was in his pants. But this was Wally, and somehow Wally made everything feel easier. Leaning back against his partner's strong chest, he felt safe.

He found himself draining the last half of his beer, the fire in his belly giving him courage.

"When we were teenagers, passing was easier. Everyone was self conscious about their bodies so no one thought twice about my reluctance to be seen undressing, even in like, locker rooms and shit." He sighed, plopping his head back on Wally's shoulder as he set the empty bottle aside and popped the cap on a new one, "But in your mid20s? We're supposed to be over that shit by now. And being a cop means close knit groups, getting hurt on the job, changing and locker rooms all over again. And my coworkers  _ notice  _ that I act weird." 

Wally nodded slowly, humming as he absorbed Dick's concerns. "Are your coworkers giving you shit about it?"

Dick shrugged heart-heartedly, taking a long pull from the bottle"Not to my face. But I heard one of the higher ups shushing a few asshats about it. She said she saw a scar shaped like a belt buckle on my back and if I'm self conscious it's 'cause I was clearly abused."

Wally furrowed his brow, certain he'd remember a scar like that. "Would having bottom surgery help you with that?"

The way Dick sagged against Wally's chest and needed another mouthful of liquid courage was answer enough, but after necking about 2/3 of the bottle, Dick finally spoke. "Maybe? I wouldn't have to pack at work if I did. Then I could take my pants off without my stupid, fake, rubber cock proclaiming my lack of masculinity to the world."

Wally gently pulled the mostly empty beer bottle from Dick's fingers, setting the six pack on the floor out of the younger man's reach. Dick grumbled at being cut off, but flopped back against Wally's chest when he settled again.

"I don't like when you talk about yourself that way," Wally muttered into Dick's hair as he pulled him close again, "What you have between your legs is not what defines you as a man. You  _ are  _ a man, Dickie. You are not lacking. And I'll keep telling you that as often as you need to hear it."

"You're gonna make me cry again!" Dick whined, curling up in Wally's lap like a weepy kitten.

The red head only chuckled, peppering his lover's forehead with kisses. Dick was so clingy, and sweet, and emotional when he was drunk. Wally had always found it adorable, even if the younger man found it absolutely mortifying.

"If you want surgery, I'll help however I can." Wally added earnestly.

Dick sniffled into his chest, drunk and overwhelmed. "I do-don't think surgery c-ca-can give me wh-hat I want anyw-way."

"Oh sweet little bird," Wally muttered, nuzzling into his boyfriend's raven hair, "Please don't cry. Darling, please, I hate when you cry, it's gunna be okay..."

"I just want to be able to do things without it  _ mattering  _ what's in my pants!" Dick sobbed, "I wanna be able to take a fucking piss without being sniggered at for sitting down to pee. I wanna change at the gym without the empty space in my boxers making it clear I don't have a penis! And surgery wouldn't even  _ solve _ this because to pee standing up I'd need at least two separate surgeries and I couldn't walk right for months and that'd out me to everyone who's ever met me, and I'd need a whole 'nother surgery just a have  _ balls  _ and-"

Wally lightly pressed a finger to Dick's lips, silencing him. Dick sniffled and hiccuped, trying to get himself under control, but he didn't speak again as he looked tearfully up at Wally.

"I know toxic masculinity crap has always gotten to you, but they call it toxic for a  _ reason _ , Dickie Bird." Wally's voice was low but authoritative, causing the squirming anxiety in Dick's gut to settle. "You have nothing to prove, not to your coworkers, or people at the gym, or anyone else. You are  _ strong  _ and  _ kind  _ and  _ passionate  _ and  _ funny  _ and you're not only a man, you're the best man I know. The man I am  _ in love with.  _ And you're perfect, pretty bird. I wouldn't change a single hair on your head."

Dick sniffed again, smiling in spite of himself. "I love you too, Wally. You're… so good to me. You're more than I deserve."

"Hush," Wally cut him off, extracting himself from the recliner and picking Dick up like he weighed nothing, "Time for tipsy birds to go to bed."

Said bird giggled against Wally's shoulder, never getting tired of how effortless it was for Wally to pick him up. "'m I too drunk for bedtime makeouts?"

Wally threw his head back in a genuine laugh as he crossed the threshold to their bedroom. "Keep your hands above the waist and I think we can excuse it."

And well, if Dick ended up dozing off before things got more heated than a good night kiss, no one could really blame him.

**Author's Note:**

> I'd be much more tempted to write the two of them having disgustingly affectionate sex if I was even a little bit skilled at writing sex scenes.  
> Alas


End file.
